


been dreaming

by bluelines



Category: Hockey RPF, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 22:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11194473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Meghan's pretty sure she's not as straight as she thought she was, and Kacey's more than willing to help her confirm her theory. And re-confirm it. And re-confirm it again.





	been dreaming

Meghan discovers herself in the basement of Chi Phi.

Well--she discovers something. Nathan's room is down there, and that’s where he brings her. He hasn’t had more than one beer, which Meghan always liked about him. She’s had only half of hers and she knows what he wants. They’ve never done anything more than kiss, really, unless you count his hand under her shirt, which Meghan doesn’t. Kelli told her it didn’t count unless he actually touched her over (or under) her bra, which he hadn’t--so she doesn’t count it. But she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t particularly care whether he does or not, or at least that’s what she thinks until they sit on the edge of his bed and he kisses her and his hand starts on her knee and moves up under her skirt, over the outside of her thigh.

She doesn’t feel _anything_. She doesn’t feel panic or anything, nothing like the repulsion Erika described to her, but she doesn’t feel anything positive either. Isn’t her heart supposed to be in her throat? Isn’t she supposed to want his hand up under her skirt? He’s cute and smart and nice to her, they have so much in common and the kiss is fine, but she doesn’t feel anything. She might as well be sitting in class. Nathan excites her about as much as calculus does, but when he breaks the kiss he’s breathing hard. His fingers go still against her thigh.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and Meghan’s first instinct is to shrug.

She doesn’t though. She’s about to tell him ‘yes’ when they hear someone else come into the basement, someone crying--definitely a girl--that makes him take his hand back and stand up. She follows him out the door where a girl she only vaguely knows as a swimmer is wiping at her eyes. The front of her shirt is wet. When she sees them she cries a little harder for a second, and Meghan goes right to her, looping an arm around her shoulders.

“Who?” Nathan asks, “was it JT?”

Meghan doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but the girl nods and he heads for the stairs.

“That fucking slimebag,” he mutters, and Meghan’s almost a little bit glad to see him go.

“Sorry,” the girl says, “you don’t have to stay with me or anything, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Meghan tells her.

“I’m Izzy,” the girl says, but she doesn’t shy away from Meghan’s arm, and that’s about the time Meghan realizes how pretty she is. She has swimmer’s shoulders, and she’s freckled and dark-eyed and smells like lavender under the beer that was spilled on her.

“I knew he was talking to other girls,” Izzy says, swaying a little. Meghan steadies her with the arm around her shoulders and Izzy ducks her face against Meghan’s shoulder like they’re friends and not basically strangers.

“Boys suck,” Meghan says, and Izzy smiles.

“You were just making out with one,” she reminds her, and Meghan quirks her lips.

“He’s alright,” Meghan admits.

“I love girls,” Izzy says, and for some reason Meghan’s stomach feels funny when she does. “I mean,” she continues, “I love how like, girls always take care of each other, you know? Like you don’t even know me. But we’re girls so we take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” Meghan agrees, steering her towards the steps to sit her down, “I love girls too.”

-

“I hate girls,” Kacey mumbles, fitting her belt around her hips.

“You say this every single time I go out with you,” Meghan says from her bed, where she’s lying on her stomach watching Kacey attempt to get ready.

“I hate them,” Kacey repeats, “they’re fickle and rude and I hate them.”

“You love making out with them though,” Kelli pipes up from the bathroom, applying her eyeliner like the professional she is, and Kacey grimaces when Meghan laughs.

“You should try it,” Kacey says, “you might like it.”

“Have tried it,” Kelli shoots back, “it was okay. Not my thing. What about you, Megs?”

Meghan feels like she’s choking on something. She thinks of Izzy on the staircase and says, “I wouldn’t know,” instead of laughing like she would have a few months ago.

“You should try it,” Kacey repeats, but she’s looking at Meghan in the mirror and she might be a little more serious than Kelli thinks she is. But Meghan sees it. She catches everything when it’s Kacey, and she knows Kacey catches everything on her, too, so on some level Kacey has to know.

“Maybe,” Meghan says noncommittally, and rolls off of the bed onto her feet.

-

Meghan tries not to think about it. On some level she already knows the answer to the quesiton she’s not asking herself. She’s known since high school, probably, since her friends all developed crushes on boys and she had to pick one because it didn’t just _happen_ like it was supposed to. 

She doesn’t have a lot of time to think about it, anyway. Hockey is the main thing. If she wants to get more ice time next year she needs to focus on hockey, and if she wants to have the grades to get into medical school, just in case, she needs to focus on school.

So she likes girls. It doesn’t mean she has to _do_ something about it. She doesn’t want to tell anyone until she thinks about Kacey, with her notebooks full of poetry about the sound of skates on ice and the quirk of a girl’s smile. She could tell Kacey, if she wanted to. 

But she puts it off anyway.

-

“She said I had cankles,” Kacey is saying, flipping through the channels. Her TV is tiny and Meghan isn’t even looking at it. She’s lying in Kacey’s lap picking at her cuticles.

“Well,” she says, “that was rude. Didn’t anyone ever teach her lying’s wrong?”

Kacey shifts under her, picking a channel, finally. “Ha,” she says, but it’s joyless and dry.

“Seriously,” Meghan says, turning her head to look up at Kay, placing a hand on Kacey’s thigh next to where her head is resting, “you have great legs.”

Kacey blinks at her. Maintaining eye contact makes Meghan a little dizzy, but that’s probably the angle, the fan spinning behind Kacey’s head, throwing light in weird directions. Kacey chews her lips for a second like she’s going to say something, then goes back to the TV, and Meghan goes back to her nail beds.

-

“I can do mascara myself,” Kacey pouts. Meghan leans against the bathroom counter, holding the mascara just out of Kacey’s reach.

“It’ll be better if I do it,” she says.

“Like it usually looks bad?” Kacey asks, “I only wear it like--once in a while.”

She reaches for the mascara and Meghan holds it away again, laughing, bumping Kacey’s hip with hers.

“What,” she says, “are you afraid to let me touch you?”

She knows exactly how it sounds. She realizes, as soon as she’s said it, that she _meant_ for it to sound like that, that at some point she made the conscious decision to flirt with Kacey, because it’s fun and Kacey always flirts back. Because it’s harmless, because, unlike with boys, Meghan doesn’t expect Kacey to think anything of it.

“No,” Kacey says, grinning, “I’m afraid to contract your case of crazy-eyes.”

“My mascara is perfect,” Meghan insists, “one hundred percent of the time, all the time.”

“Sure,” Kacey agrees, in a way that suggests what she’s actually doing is disagreeing. Her ponytail is loose, and Meghan reaches to distractedly to touch one of the wisps that have come free. Kacey’s entire expression changes when she does.

“Megs,” she says, reaching up for Meghan’s wrist, “you can’t-- don’t do that.”

Meghan almost asks what, but she knows what she’s doing. She didn’t think Kacey would call her out, so all she can do is stand there and be annoyed at herself for a few seconds.

“Sorry,” she tries, taking her hand back, but Kacey doesn’t let go of her at first.

“Just,” Kacey says, “I know you’re teasing, but I’m--you know.”

“Well,” Meghan says, before she realizes that she’s opened her mouth, “who says I’m not?”

Kacey blinks at her. She lets go of Meghan’s hand and disappears out of the bathroom, and Meghan follows her into the bedroom, but she doesn’t join Kacey on the edge of the bed. Kacey looks like she needs the space, and Meghan sort of gets it. 

“Are you sure?” Kacey asks, but her voice is far away.

“Um,” Meghan says, “I mean, I guess I’m not _sure_ , since I’ve never kissed a girl or anything, but...I don’t think I like guys that much.”

Kacey nods, mostly to herself. She looks up at Meghan eventually, and Meghan blushes. Having said it out loud makes it a lot more real than it was before, and she’s not sure how she feels about it. She can tell that Kacey isn’t sure how to feel about it either. Kacey has known since--well, as long as Meghan’s known her, and Meghan feels like a total amateur, staring down someone who knows without a shadow of a doubt that she’s gay. Someone whose parents know, whose brothers know. 

Someone who’s had a girlfriend. Meghan can’t imagine having a girlfriend.

“You could try on me if you wanted to,” Kacey blurts, and now it’s her turn to bush.

“You know,” she continues, “to be sure, or more sure.”

Meghan sits on the edge of the bed and thinks about it. Kavey doesn’t rush her, just waits, hands held in her own lap. Meghan gets side-tracked thinking about how patient Kacey is. It’s what makes her such a good defenseman, her willingness to watch and wait, to hang back until she’s sure it’s time to commit. Right now she’s letting Meghan decide when that will be.

Thinking about kissing Kacey makes Meghan’s heart skip a beat. It’s exciting the same way that speeding is exciting, exciting in a way that sends a trickle of fear down her spine. It feels like something they shouldn’t be doing, like something dangerous. And Meghan wants it.

“Yeah,” she says, and Kacey’s head snaps up.

“Yeah?” she asks, and Meghan nods.

“I want to try it,” she says, and Kacey scrambles to sit on the bed, cross-legged in the middle, waiting for her. Meghan joins her, feeling lighteheaded, and she sits cross-legged too, so close that their knees are touching. She presses her lips together and takes a moment just to look at Kacey. Her best friend. Freckles and blue eyes that are only this wide when she’s not sure about something. It doesn’t feel real to her at all, and she’s doubting whether or not she’ll have the guts to go through with it until it’s actually happening.

And then it’s happening. She’s kissing Kacey. She braces herself with a hand on either one of Kacey’s knees, and it only lasts a second. Kacey kisses her back, and even though it was Kacey’s idea to begin with Meghan is surprised enough to sit back.

It hasn’t proved anything to her other than the fact that Kacey wanted to kiss her, which for some reason isn’t that surprising. She wants to try it again, but she’s not sure how to go about it, not sure whether the offer was a one-time thing, and wishing she had made it last a little longer when she could have.

Kacey glances at her lips and Meghan second guesses that. 

“Can I--?” Meghan asks, leaning forward again, and Kacey nods just as her eyes drop back to Meghan’s lips. They kiss again, and this time Meghan is actually able to believe that this is happening to her. She’s an active participant, her hands sliding up Kacey’s arms to the elbow. Kacey’s hands rest on her knees, the way Meghan’s had rested on hers before, and the contact makes Meghan burn in ways she’d thought were made up for books and movies. 

But it’s not made up.

She wants Kacey. She understands, very suddenly, when she thinks about Kacey’s hands on her skin,why so many teenage girls get pregnant because the temptation of sex without a condom is too strong. That’s never made sense before, but now Meghan gets it. She _should not_ have sex with Kacey. Even if Kacey would want to, which Meghan can’t even begin to assume--she shouldn’t do it. But in that moment, with Kacey’s hands on her for the first time in this new and dangerous way, Meghan really does consider it.

She wants Kacey to touch more of her. Instead she makes sure the kiss goes on as long as possible, and when they pull apart again Kacey’s face is flushed, even if she doesn’t say anything right away. 

“Hey,” Meghan breathes, and Kacey cracks up.

“Hey,” she says, leaning back and placing her hands back in her lap. “So how was I?”

“Shut up,” Meghan says, pushing Kacey’s knee with one hand.

“Seriously, though,” Kacey says, “I mean, did you like it? Is it your thing?”

Meghan thinks too long about how to answer, and Kacey gets shy all of a sudden, scratching the back of her neck and breaking eye contact.

“We can try it again,” Kacey says, “I mean, if you’re not sure yet.”

Meghan is nervous to do it, but she does it anyway. She reaches out with one hand and tilts Kacey’s chin up so that they make eye contact again, and then she goes in for another kiss and somehow it’s even better this time, like Kacey’s not trying to prove anything. Better, too, because Meghan is touching her. She’s never had a moment where she looked at Kacey and thought of her like this--as someone she wants to touch, or someone she wants to kiss--but now that they’re here she can’t get away from it. Kacey’s a _good_ kisser. 

And Meghan likes kissing her. Kacey probably gets that now. She seems to, because she tugs Meghan’s lower lip between her teeth playfully, reaching for Meghan by the elbows, and Meghan lets herself be pulled forward onto her knees, leaning against Kacey’s. It would probably be easier if Meghan ended up in Kacey’s lap, but she’s not sure about it, and eventually the angle becomes so extreme that the kiss breaks off again and Kacey looks up at her, blinking rapidly.

“Okay,” she says slowly, “so yes.”

“Jesus,” Meghan laughs into the space between them, “take a hint.”

“I didn’t want to jump to conclusions,” Kacey replies indignantly as Meghan sinks back down onto the mattress, “you were straight ten minutes ago.”

“What was it you said to Kelli?” Meghan asks, stretching her legs out on either side of Kacey, “something about noodles being straight too until they’re hot and wet?”

Kacey blushes and Meghan’s grin starts to actually hurt her face. If she had realized Kacey would get so worked up about it, she thinks, she would have been doing this ages ago. 

“That’s lewd,” Kacey says, mock-seriously, “I would never talk about girls like that.”

Meghan shakes her head, leaning back against the pillows. She looks at Kacey for a while, trying to let it sink in that she was just _kissing_ Kacey, waiting for that to hit her and feel strange, but it doesn’t. It still just feels like a fact.

“What do I do now?” she asks.

“Well,” Kacey says after a moment, “you’re not dating Nathan anymore so you can do whatever you want.”

“I mean,” Meghan continues, looking up at Kacey’s ceiling, “if I wanted to--be with a girl. How would I find one?”

“They’re not rare birds,” Kacey laughs, moving to lay next to Meghan, situating herself with two pillows behind her head, “you just have to look in the right places. You know lots of girls who aren’t straight.”

“I guess,” Meghan muses, “but if I asked one of them to hang out, how would they know I meant, like…”

“In a gay way?” Kacey asks, grinning. “You just know. I don’t know, I guess you flirt with them and then they flirt back.”

“Great advice, Casanova,” Meghan snorts, closing her eyes. Kacey rolls over, Meghan can feel it. When she opens her eyes again Kacey’s looking at her seriously, and it throws Meghan for a loop that if she wanted to she could lean in and kiss Kacey again. For minutes, probably. Hours.

“You’ll be fine,” Kacey tells her, and suddenly Meghan feels like crying.

“I know,” she replies, and Kacey shuffles forward on the bed to hug her, winding her arms around Meghan’s shoulders. Meghan hugs her back, but they don’t part right away. For a while they just lie like that, Meghan’s arms around Kacey’s waist, Kacey’s arms around her neck, breathing together, and even that feels different. She keeps noticing things she never noticed before.

“I’m gonna fall asleep like this,” Kacey mumbles, and Meghan tucks her face against Kacey’s shoulder.

“Did you set an alarm?” she asks, and Kacey nods.

“Then go to sleep,” Meghan replies. Kacey sighs, and when she does her stomach presses against Meghan’s, and Meghan is fascinated by that, by the way that holding Kacey like this is so different, so much more intimate than it ever felt to touch a boy even with less clothes on. She likes it. She likes how soft Kacey is in comparison.

Kacey rolls out of her arms and under the covers and Meghan follows. Under the blankets Kacey curls onto her side, hands stuck up under the pillow like they always are, and Meghan stretches her legs out again, yawning.

“Megs,” Kacey mumbles, already half asleep, “I can set you up, if you want.”

“Okay,” Meghan says, “sure,” and she falls asleep before she can regret it.

-

“Honestly,” Meghan says, flopping onto the beanbag, “if I managed to convince a girl to go out with me I wouldn’t even know what to do with one.”

Kacey turns on the basement lights and clears Rob’s Xbox controllers off the couch before she sits down, holding her beer between her knees. She turns on the TV and starts flipping through channels before she answers.

“It’s just like,” she says distractedly, “just do whatever you like to be done to you and that’s a good start?”

Meghan pulls her knees into her chest and tries to think about it, but she knows the answer.

“I don’t know what I like,” she says, “Nathan never asked what I liked, he just did stuff, and it was mostly just okay.”

Kacey squeezes her eyes shut the way she always does when Meghan talks about having sex with guys, but this time it lasts longer than usual and she grits out, “Okay, I don’t want to know.”

“I can Google it,” Meghan says, digging her phone out of her pocket. She’s mostly kidding, but Kacey hits the mute button anyway and takes a long drink from her beer.

“Listen,” she says, “I just have one question and then you can Google or whatever and leave me out of it, but did he even--did he ever even get you off?”

It all comes out in a rush, so it takes a second for Meghan to even understand what Kacey’s saying. When she does, she can feel her ears go hot. She has to really think about it, but even when she does she’s not sure how to answer.

“I don’t really know,” she says finally, “I guess, maybe?”

“You would know,” Kacey insists, clutching her beer in one hand, “like, you--have you never--?”

“I have!” Meghan insists, sitting up, “I just thought like, maybe it’s different when it’s just you than it is when it’s with--when--”

“Oh my God,” Kacey groans, dropping her face into her hand, “I can’t have this conversation.”

“You asked,” Meghan reminds her, and Kacey tips her beer back again.

“It’s common sense,” Kacey tells her, red in the face now, “nobody would have sex if it was better getting off by themselves, Megs. Come on.”

“Okay,” Meghan replies indignantly, a little hurt on Nathan’s behalf--he was nice to her, and he tried, “so he never got me off, no. Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Kacey insists, “he sucks, that’s supposed to be his priority.”

“It can’t be that complicated,” Meghan thinks out loud.

“More complicated than a blowjob,” Kacey shoots back, and Meghan crosses to the couch to take Kacey’s beer out of her hand and finish it.

“You’ve never even given a blowjob,” Meghan says, “you don’t know how complicated it is.”

“Gross,” Kacey says, putting the beer can down on the table, “listen, it _is_ complicated, but that’s the best part. Not the best part. It’s part of what makes it so great though. Everyone’s different. So it’s like a puzzle, you have to figure out what works where, and…” she trails off as if she’s just realized the tangent she’s gone on, and Meghan swears she’s never seen Kacey’s face so red.

“I’m listening,” she prompts, and Kacey presses her lips together.

“It’s hard to explain,” Kacey says.

Meghan thinks about it. She tries to imagine doing to a girl what she’s done by herself and it just doesn’t compute, doesn’t seem like enough. She thinks about kissing Kacey, about Kacey’s hand under her shirt, and she sits up straighter, holding one knee to her chest.

“I could show you,” Kacey says, and the silence that hangs between them then seems like it’ll go on forever. Meghan thinks about that and can feel her heart still in her throat, in a good way. In a great way.

“You’d do that?” Meghan asks, and Kacey shrugs with one shoulder, looking away like it’s casual, like it’s nothing, but the blush lingering on her cheeks tells Meghan otherwise.

“Sure,” Kacey replies, so nonchalantly it’s clearly an act, “if you want.”

“If you don’t get me off,” Meghan jokes, pushing at Kacey’s knee with her foot, “you owe me another beer.”

“I will,” Kacey says, something in her face changing that Meghan doesn’t have a word for, “don’t worry,” and Meghan feels that warmth trickling in, starting in her legs and her chest and working inward like liquor. It’s want. She knows that much.

“Okay,” Meghan says. She drops her knee away from her chest, and it brushes Kacey’s when she does. Kacey reaches down and touches Meghan’s knee, leaning into kiss her, and somehow Meghan’s surprised by it. She had expected something more like how things had happened with Nathan--something kind of immediate--but she figures she should have known better. 

_Foreplay_ , she thinks as Kacey continues to kiss her, _that’s the word_ , and she grins into the kiss feeling the urge to laugh about it. Kacey smiles, too, and that means they have to come apart, but that doesn’t last long, either. Kacey presses her back so that her head rests against the arm of the couch, one knee wedged on either side of Meghan’s hips, one hand on the top of the couch and the other on her hip.

“If I do anything you don’t like,” Kacey says, “you gotta tell me. That’s the deal. Cause this isn’t about me.”

“Okay,” Meghan says again, unsure what to do with her hands, “but I’ll probably enjoy it more if you’re enjoying it too.”

“Shut up,” Kacey says, blushing deeply, and Meghan likes that--likes the idea that Kacey enjoys her, enjoys touching her--and decides not to question it. Kacey moves her hand from Meghan’s hip up along her her side, and Meghan puts her hands on Kacey’s hips. It surprises her how normal that feels. It’s not at all the way she would touch a boy, and Kacey’s hips fill her hands so differently than she could ever have guessed. 

Kacey is all focus while she touches Meghan over her shirt, and Meghan is too curious not to slip her hands under Kacey’s shirt, just to rest her fingertips against Kacey’s skin. Kacey clenches her jaw and leans down, and Meghan tips up her chin to kiss her before Kacey redirects and kisses her jaw. Her hand moves under Meghan’s shirt to palm over her bra and Meghan drops her head back against the arm of the couch, unable to keep her eyes open for a minute. It’s not groping. It’s not even remotely groping. It’s something so much better, and she doesn’t overthink it when she reaches behind her own back to unclasp her bra.

“Shit,” Kacey mumbles, sitting back, and Meghan pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it and her bra aside.

“Not cool?” Meghan asks, genuinely concerned for a second, but Kacey only shakes her head wordlessly and replaces her hand with her mouth, kissing along Meghan’s neck and chest. All Meghan can think for a moment is that if she had been doing this with a boy it would already have been over.

Kacey’s mouth is hot and insistent against her neck again, and Meghan can feel a moan welling up in her throat even before it occurs to her that it might be the first she hasn’t forced in her life. It escapes when Kacey’s teeth scrape across her collarbone, and Kacey smiles against her skin when she hears it. She sits up, sliding both hands along Meghan’s stomach, and Meghan exhales, pressing her fingertips into Kacey’s skin.

“You can take my shirt off,” Kacey says, “if you want.”

Meghan tugs up on Kacey’s shirt immediately, and Kacey tugs it over her head. Meghan’s seen all this before plenty of times in locker rooms and otherwise, but she’s never paid attention like this. Kacey’s freckles continue down her neck and across her chest, and Meghan reaches mindlessly to touch her, dragging her index finger along the cup of Kacey’s plain black bra, wondering if there are freckles underneath there, too.

Kacey takes a moment before she moves again, this time sliding off the couch to rest on her knees, and taking Meghan’s hands to guide her to sit straight up on the couch. Sitting up on her knees, Kacey kisses Meghan’s neck again, her sternum, her breasts. Meghan’s overwhelmed even before Kacey tugs at the waistband of her leggings, pressing her fingertips into Meghan’s hipbones.

“Here?” Meghan gasps.

“You’re the one who tore her shirt off,” Kacey reminds her, and Meghan blushes, tugging the straps of Kacey’s bra over her shoulders. Kacey shrugs out of them, unhooking her bra, but Meghan doesn’t really get much of a chance to look or touch before Kacey’s tugging her leggings down. She lifts her hips to help the process, and Kacey kisses her knee, pressing Meghan’s legs apart with her hands high on Meghan’s thighs.

“This is where it’s a little different,” Kacey mumbles, one of her hands moving slowly to Meghan’s underwear.

“You have nothing to compare it to,” Meghan manages to say, somehow. 

Kacey doesn’t answer her, just strokes Meghan over her underwear, watching her face for a reaction. Meghan gives it to her, dropping her head back against the couch and biting her lip. This, at least, is a lot like how she’s always done it herself. Kacey has a finer, gentler touch than any boy has ever had with her, like she’s paying close attention, like there’s something more than the desperation and earnestness that Meghan’s used to being behind it. She takes her time, and Meghan’s just starting to get used to it when Kacey’s cool fingers slide under her underwear and shock her all over again. Her upper body comes off the couch and she reaches blindly for Kacey’s shoulders, gasping, before Kacey has done anything. Kacey hushes her, but she smiles for a half a second before focus overtakes her expression again.

Kacey uses her thumb first, in a small circle, and then she moves Meghan’s underwear away and straightens her fingers. Meghan never could have imagined that someone touching her with just their fingers could do this to her. She’s desperately trying to keep quiet, pressing back into the couch again and shoving her fist into her mouth. Kacey takes her time, building Meghan up, and the main difference that Meghan can see is that Kacey doesn’t get anything out of this other than the pleasure of seeing _Meghan’s_ pleasure. Kacey’s not racing to get off. Kacey’s resting her cheek against Meghan’s thigh and looking up every once and a while to check in. This is solely about Meghan, who, when she really realizes that, finds herself breathless and over the edge she hadn’t realized she was even close to.

Kacey was right. It’s nothing like it is when it’s just her. She definitely never felt this with Nathan. It’s a full-body shudder that has her clamping her legs around Kacey’s shoulders and breathing out halting moans into the palm of her own hand.

“Holy shit ,” she says, once there’s enough air in her lungs to do it. She’s still trembling, and half expecting Kacey to laugh and say ‘I told you so’, but Kacey isn’t laughing at all. Kacey’s hand joins her other on Meghan’s thighs, and when she shifts Meghan thinks she’s about to get up. Instead she adjusts to be kneeling more comfortably and kisses Meghan’s inner thigh, and Meghan understands with sudden clarity what’s about to happen. She inhales sharply, reaching for Kacey again, and Kacey looks up at her, hesitating, blinking like she had forgotten where she was.

“If you don’t want--”

“No,” Meghan interjects, and Kacey leans back. “I mean,” Meghan tries again, “yes, I--you don’t have to stop.”

Kacey kisses Meghan’s inner thigh again, and Meghan slides forward on the couch to give her a better angle. She swears that she can feel the heat of Kacey’s breath even through her underwear. It strikes her as ludicrously dirty all of a sudden, especially when she remembers that anyone could walk in on them at any second.

“Has anyone ever...?” Kacey asks, lifting her head, and Meghan reaches down to loosen Kacey’s ponytail when she shakes her head wordlessly, still grappling with the fact that they’re here, that Kacey is on her knees.

“They didn’t deserve you,” Kacey mumbles, and Meghan doesn’t have time to think about it before Kacey’s tugging her underwear down.

Meghan’s sensitive from the first time around, so much so that the first touch of Kacey’s mouth to her skin makes her jump. Kacey smooths a hand along Meghan’s thigh and hikes Meghan’s knees over her shoulders, and Meghan has to fight to stay upright enough to watch so that she has any idea what Kacey’s doing. She’s supposed to be learning something, after all. She can’t focus. She doesn’t know what Kacey’s doing with her lips or her tongue, just that it’s _good_ , that it feels like she’s dying, like she can’t breathe but in the best possible way. 

Every time it starts to feel like it might almost be too much Kacey pulls back as if she knows, giving Meghan a second to breathe and recover, and Meghan loses track of how long it goes on for but she knows it’s longer than the first time. She had no understanding of how long she could go on feeling like this, but the second time she gets off without Kacey’s hands on her at all--they’re braced on the lip of the couch. Meghan bites her lip to keep from making too much noise this time, scratching her nails against Kacey’s scalp, unable to keep her hips even remotely still.

Kacey doesn’t let up right away, and for a few seconds as Meghan’s hips jump she wonders whether Kacey’s ever going to stop at all. She does, though, pulling back and wiping her mouth on her shoulder. Meghan lets go of her when she gets up off her knees, and when Kacey sprawls her back onto the couch lengthwise Meghan doesn’t resist it. She’s boneless with the exhaustion of coming so hard twice so close together. Kacey settles with one leg between hers, leaning down to kiss her, and Meghan doesn’t think twice about it even before she realizes she can taste herself on Kacey’s lips.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, and Kacey pulls away to make sure it’s a good thing.

“See,” Kacey says, when she sees the blush on Meghan’s face, “way better than getting yourself off.”

“Being with a boy wasn’t,” Meghan admits, and Kacey shrugs. She still has her jeans on, Meghan realizes, and it’s up to her to make that change. 

“I’m going to be bad at it,” she says, and Kacey kisses her neck again lazily.

“I doubt it,” she replies, but she sounds distracted, and from the way she rocks against Meghan’s hipbone Meghan knows she’s impatient to be touched. She knows what that feels Like. She’s just afraid that she can’t fix it.

“Take your jeans off,” she says, sliding her hands from Kacey’s hips up along her sides.

“You do it,” Kacey shoots back, rocking forward again, this time with more purpose. She sits up, and something’s changed in her face again. She’s completely unfocused, bracing herself with her hands on Meghan’s stomach, rocking against Meghan’s hipbone, and Meghan can’t find the heart to stop her quite yet.

“Do you,” she starts, then hesitates, blushing at her own question, “could you get off? Like this?”

“Probably,” Kacey admits shamelessly, and Meghan sucks in a breath. “Usually no, but after all that...probably.”

“What do you want?” Meghan asks, watching her own hands slide up Kacey’s stomach to her breasts, completely baffled but taking every opportunity she can. Kacey tips her head forward, breathing out harshly, and for a second Meghan doesn’t realize that the answer is delayed because of what she’s doing with her hands. She stops and Kacey lifts her head again, reaching down to unbutton her jeans, lifting herself onto her knees.

“Fingers,” she murmurs, guiding Meghan’s hand down the front of her jeans, fumbling with the zipper with her other hand. Meghan has to take a second. She’s not a stranger to this, she realizes, not really. She’s touched herself enough to know, to not be surprised, to not be confused or mildly grossed out the way she had been with Nathan. When she presses her fingertips against damp cotton, she’s not really thinking about anything except what Kacey’s feeling, and when she looks up to see Kacey biting her lip it’s all she can do to take her hand away and push Kacey back onto the couch.

Kacey lifts her hips, dragging her jeans down, and Meghan just watches. She’s never looked at Kacey like this but now that she is she’s noticing things she never expected. Things like how long and slim Kacey’s legs are. She runs her hands along them, from Kacey’s ankles up along the outsides of her thighs, and Kacey sits up on her elbows, watching.

Meghan doesn’t ask for advice again then, even though it occurs to her to and she’s nervous about trying. She’s not as nervous as she is intrigued, and when she places her hands on Kacey’s knees they move apart with no pressure at all. At first that stuns her into freezing. Kacey wants her. Boys have wanted her before. And with boys it’s always more obvious, but Meghan had never really cared whether they wanted her or not. She’s blindsided by how it makes her feel to realize that Kacey wants her, so much so that it has her reaching forward to rub her thumb over Kacey’s underwear without thinking.

One halting circle and Kacey’s already biting her lips. Meghan, if she had bothered to think it through, would have taken Kacey’s underwear away, but now it feels rude to stop, and she’s a little obsessed with watching Kacey’s face change with the pressure she adds and takes away.

Kacey shifts a little bit, and Meghan reaches to pull down her underwear but struggles because she’s shaking again and Kacey is too. She goes back to doing what she was doing with her thumb before, but her focus wavers even before Kacey sighs. It’s different now that she can see everything.

“Megs,” Kacey says, and Meghan looks up to see that Kacey’s bright red from her face all the way down into her neck. She looks--not exactly embarrassed, but frustrated, trying her best to be patient, and Meghan is at a loss. She braces her free hand on the top of the couch and moves up to kiss Kacey, trying to put into it the words she’s not going to be able to make, and Kacey reaches down to guide her fingers.

“Slow,” Kacey says, her arm winding around Meghan’s shoulders. Meghan tries to remember what Kacey had done, but she can’t, exactly. She can only remember how she felt, and how badly she wants Kacey to feel that, too. Kacey’s hand leaves hers and slides along her waist, and Kacey’s hips start meeting her halfway.

Still--slow. So slow that Meghan’s forearm starts to ache. When Kacey’s arm tightens around her shoulders, Meghan kisses her neck and builds up some speed, refusing to let her cramping arm dictate anything. It’ll be worth it, she tells herself, and she’s not wrong. She bites Kacey’s neck gently at the same time that Kacey lifts her hips, changing the angle for a half a second.

Her fingernails dig into Meghan’s shoulders, and Meghan somehow thinks to muffle whatever’s about to come out of Kacey’s mouth with a kiss. She thinks it might have been her name, but she’s not sure and she’s not going to ask, either. When Kacey inhales, Meghan sits up a little bit to look at her face, but she’s still not sure.

“Did you,” she starts, but she can’t finish the question. Kacey’s eyes stay closed.

“It’s not all about that,” Kacey says, but Meghan knows that means ‘no’. 

“Bullshit,” Meghan says, “tell me what to do.”

“It’s a little advanced,” Kacey jokes weakly, with Meghan’s hand on her hip now, “that’s like, level three, you just graduated level one.”

“Try me,” Meghan says, “I learn fast.”

“The truth is that it’s not, y’know...it’s not easy?” Kacey’s blushing again, turning her face away like she’s embarrassed for Meghan to see her embarrassed, which, Meghan thinks, is the newest thing she’s experienced all night. “It’s not easy for me to get off,” Kacey clarifies, and Meghan reaches up to turn Kacey’s face and make eye contact again.

“Tell me how.”

For a few moments Kacey just looks up at her. Meghan wonders what Kacey’s thinking, wishes she could find out without asking, but she can’t tell anymore like she usually can. Kacey’s a mystery to her all of a sudden, and it doesn’t scare her like she’d expect it to. It almost excites her. Instead of answering, Kacey takes the hand on her cheek and guides it between her legs again. At first, nothing is different. Kacey closes her eyes, her hand still on Meghan’s wrist.

“Use your thumb,” she murmurs, “if you can,” and even though it’s not supposed to be a challenge, Meghan can’t help but react like it is.

She does what she thinks she’s being asked to do, and Kacey’s eyes flutter, her hand sliding up to Meghan’s bicep where her fingers dig in. Meghan alternates between watching her hand and Kacey’s face, but it’s difficult to coordinate and she can’t keep a good rhythm up like this, with her hand twisted the way it is. That’s when it occurs to her to put more of what Kacey showed her to the test.

For a moment she’s not sure if she can do it. Then she looks back up at Kacey’s face, at her furrowed brows, and decides that she definitely can--and definitely wants to. She pulls her hand back, bracing herself above Kacey for a moment, and Kacey opens her eyes all the way, reaching up to push Meghan’s hair out of her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, and Meghan kisses her.

“I’m not worrying about it,” she says, and then she slides back along the length of the couch until she’s settled between Kacey’s legs and Kacey’s staring down at her wide-eyed and flushed. 

_Yeah_ , Meghan thinks, _I can definitely do this_ .

Kacey opens her mouth to speak, but not before Meghan replaces her hand, this time using her mouth instead of her thumb. It’s not as weird as she thought it might be.It’s not weird at all, and once she realizes that, it’s kind of amazing how immediately Kacey reacts, both her hands going to Meghan’s hair as she half-yelps Meghan’s name.

“Kacey,” Meghan says, lifting her head to shush her, and Kacey shoves the heel of one hand into her mouth. 

Meghan can’t help but be a little smug.

It’s right around when her tongue and her jaw start to get tired that Kacey’s hands go to her hair again, and Meghan glances up even though it makes her neck ache because she wants to see Kacey’s face. Kacey arches back against the couch, and then Meghan knows she couldn’t have missed it earlier if Kacey had gotten off. Kacey’s legs clamp around her, and Meghan has to close her eyes. 

So Kacey was right. It’s more complicated than it was with guys, but it’s also a thousand times more rewarding. Somehow Kacey manages to stay pretty quiet, but her hips come up again and again, and Meghan lifts her head instead of trying to keep up. She doesn’t take her hand away until Kacey’s hips have stopped moving, but even when she does Kacey’s legs continue to tremble for a few seconds.

“Jesus,” Kacey croaks, and Meghan laughs .

“Okay,” she continues, “I think I owe you a beer anyway.”

Meghan sits up, reaching for her shirt, leaving her bra on the ground.

“What level was that?” she asks, and Kacey rolls her eyes, still sprawled out on the couch.

“There aren’t levels,” Kacey mutters. “That was a metaphor.”

-

That night they fall asleep in Kacey’s bed pleasantly buzzed and fully clothed like they have plenty of times before. Kacey doesn’t try to touch her, and Meghan falls asleep aware of Kacey breathing three inches from her back, but not in a wanting way. It’s just a fact. Kacey is there. She’s always been there.

-

Arielle is a soccer player who happens to go to Wisco. Kacey went to high school with her, but they don’t know each other too terribly well anymore. She spends the first few minutes asking about Kacey, but not in a way that makes Meghan feel weird, just in a friendly way.

“She used to get in trouble in class for writing,” Arielle says, “like, not stuff to do with class, just filling up notebooks with doodles and poetry and stuff.” 

“Yeah,” Meghan says, “that sounds like her.”

They fall silent for a few seconds while Meghan panics trying to decide what to say. Eventually she comes up with, “What are you studying?” and feels as relieved as Arielle looks.

“I’m a philosophy major,” she says, “but I’m pre-law, I guess.”

“Bio,” Meghan says, “pre-med, kind of.”

“Pre-hockey,” Arielle suggests, and Meghan shrugs, picking mindlessly at her danish.

“Not really,” she replies, “I mean, yeah, I want to play hockey. But I’ll probably still end up in medicine after. Or nutrition or something.”

“I don’t really know what I want to do,” Arielle says, and Meghan is already bored and already feeling bad about it.

-

The date doesn’t get less boring. Arielle walks back to the dorms with her. Nobody’s in the elevator with them, so Arielle kisses her, kind of awkwardly pressing Meghan into the corner, and it’s not bad or gross or anything but it’s not anything good really, either. Meghan still gets a little thrill from it because Arielle is cute and a girl and has just kissed her, but it’s nothing compared to before. She doesn’t want to compare Arielle to Kacey, but those are the only experiences she’s had.

“How was it?” are the first words out of Kacey’s mouth when Meghan calls her.

“Okay,” she answers, trying to pick out some positives to tell her, “she’s cute. She paid and she kissed me.”

“Wow,” Kacey says after a second, “that’s it? No, like...did you like her?”

“Sure,” Meghan replies, but she’s just noticed a hangnail and tucks the phone between her ear and shoulder to pick at it.

“Convincing,” Kacey says, and for a half a second Meghan wants to say that Arielle’s not as good as Kacey was. But then Meghan’s never gone on a _date_ with Kacey.

“She was probably just nervous,” Kacey says, “you’re hot, you know. It’s intimidating. Give her another chance.”

Meghan resolves to do that. She stays on the phone with Kacey until both of them decide they need to sleep, talking about everything and nothing. It’s a pretty normal ritual for them, but this time it feels a little different, like there are things both of them are deciding not to say.

-

Meghan doesn’t give Arielle a second chance. As soon as she sees her, as soon as they’re alone together, she’s blurting without thinking about it, “I think we should be friends,” and she wants to kick herself. Arielle looks surprised and a little hurt, and Meghan races to fix it as best she can, thinking only about what Kacey’s going to think of her.

“We’d be great friends,” she says, and Arielle blinks.

“Uh, okay.”

It turns out that Meghan enjoys Arielle’s company a lot more when she’s not trying to date her, enough so that it occurs to her maybe she could try the dating thing again. As soon as that thought occurs to her she realizes it’s stupid. She doesn’t like Arielle that way. They don’t have any chemistry.

Meghan misses Kacey.

-

“Oh my God,” Kacey groans, “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I didn’t want to lead her on,” Meghan insists, “when I knew it wasn’t going anywhere.”

“How did you know?” Kacey asks incredulously, and Meghan huffs, switching her phone to her other side.

“Like you’ve never been on a date with someone and just had a feeling?” she asks.

“I would at least have gotten laid first,” Kacey says, and Meghan groans, flopping over onto her stomach.

“I would never have sex with someone I didn’t want to date,” she says, defending herself. She could have, she realizes, and it wouldn’t have meant anything terrible about her, necessarily. She just didn’t want to.

“You had sex with me,” Kacey points out, and suddenly Meghan’s heart is racing like she’s gotten caught doing something wrong.

“Shut up,” she says, “that’s obviously different,” but Kacey doesn’t laugh. 

“There’ll be other girls,” she says instead.

“I miss you,” Meghan replies, “I wish you were here.”

On the other end of the line she can hear rustling, and has a vivid image of Kacey in bed, half-asleep, rolling onto her side, pulling the covers closer around her. Meghan is struck with how badly she realizes she wishes that she were there instead, in Kacey’s bed, wrapped around her. It’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to think about your best friend, but it doesn’t feel wrong.

“Spring break is soon,” Kacey says, her voice a little muffled, “we can go to Cape Cod for a night if you want.”

“Just us?” Meghan asks, sitting on the edge of her own bed. She realizes what it sounds like, but she can’t stop herself.

“Sure,” Kacey replies, like it’s easy to say. Meghan doesn’t push it any more than that, even though a part of her is ready to say more. She’s not sure exactly what the ‘more’ entails, but wanting to be alone with Kacey is enough to digest for one night.

“Just us,” Kacey assures her.

-

Meghan doesn’t hang out with Arielle again. She doesn’t look for other girls, either. She becomes slowly, painfully aware of the fact that she thinks about Kacey all the time, a fact that culminates with her dreaming about Kacey two nights before spring break. 

She’s not even sure exactly what the dream was about when she woke up, but she knows it was about Kacey, and she’s hot all over and feels vaguely ashamed of herself for the few seconds before she remembers that Kacey was the one who started all of this, kind of. 

So if Meghan has a crush on her, it’s kind of Kacey’s fault.

-

She doesn’t to actually see Kacey until they’re about to leave for the cape. Kacey picks her up in the Buick with a cooler of Corona Light that neither of them even likes.

“It’s all my parents would let me take from the house,” she grumbles, showing Meghan, who shrugs.

“We can buy beer there,” she says, and Kacey digs around in the backseat.

“I didn’t say it’s all I brought,” Kacey replies, pulling out a merlot that looks expensive.

“They’re gonna kill you,” Meghan laughs, taking the bottle from Kacey to look it over.

“It was fifteen bucks,” Kacey says, “but I bet it won’t taste like it.”

-

Twenty minutes into the highway drive to Plymouth, ‘Love Song’ comes on and Meghan turns the Buick’s volume up as loud as it’ll go. Kacey covers her ear with one hand, using the other to steer, while the entire car vibrates and Meghan belts along. She might be _pretending_ to be annoyed, but Meghan knows better. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Kacey smiling.

-

They don’t even drink the Corona Light. 

The beach at Plymouth is pretty busy, because spring break is spring break, but they’ve avoided going to the busy parts of the Cape so it’s not too terrible. There aren’t a lot of tourists, just kids and parents who live nearby, and they set up close to the dunes because the tide’s coming in. Meghan’s slathered herself in sunscreen and sprawled out on a towel before Kacey’s even gotten her things out. 

Meghan’s not really paying attention. She can hear Kacey moving around a few yards back in the Buick, and she can hear the Corona bottles. She’s about to look up and ask Kacey for one when Kacey dumps the entire cooler of ice onto her, all the bottles gone now, God knows where. Meghan screams, flailing, and Kacey drops the cooler to one side, bending over with her hands on her knees because she’s laughing too hard to stand up straight.

Meghan gets to her feet for the half a second it takes to get her arms around Kacey’s waist, and tackles her into the sand, and this time it’s Kacey’s turn to yelp. She tries to shove Meghan off, still laughing.

“Stop,” she gasps, “I’m freezing,” and Meghan buries her cold, wet face in Kacey’s neck.

“Too bad,” she says, but she’s distracted now, realizing this is the most of Kacey’s body she’s ever felt pressed up against hers, and Kacey’s warm and strong and not struggling against her anymore, just resting with a hand on her hip, catching her breath.

“Okay,” she says eventually, pushing at Meghan’s hip again, “I guess I deserved that.”

“The beer is gonna get warm,” Meghan says, but she doesn’t get up right away, she’s enjoying it too much now that she’s settled, even with her knees pressing into the sand. She gets up just because she misses her towel, and Kacey scrambles to her feet, heading back for the car.

“Guess we better drink them fast, then,” she says, and Meghan rolls her eyes, situating herself back on her damp towel and trying not to open her eyes to watch Kacey walking back over. Kacey hands her a beer, and Meghan drinks it even though it’s gross. It’s cold and it’s refreshing and it completes the picture, the two of them sprawled out on the sand, sunglasses and bikinis and cheap, shitty beer.

“I love this,” Meghan says suddenly, surprising even herself. Kacey hums in agreement, stretching out her legs.

“Beats sitting in a senior colloquium,” Kacey agrees, but that’s not really what Meghan means. She’s not sure how to explain the difference, so she lets it lie. Something’s changed with them. She knows it, and she knows that Kacey knows it, but it’s comfortable not talking about it, comfortable just letting things happen the way they’re happening. That’s what she’s thinking when Kacey turns her head to look at her, and Meghan turns her own so that they’re face to face again.

“I missed you,” Kacey says, and Meghan smiles.

-

They gorge themselves on fried shrimp and crabcakes at Isaac’s and end up back on the beach again afterwards right as it starts to get dark. Kacey digs a flashlight and the merlot out of the Buick and Meghan walks along the receding tide picking out seashells, but nothing comes up unbroken. 

“Hey,” Kacey says, “you know why you’re not finding anything, right?”

“Because everyone’s already taken all the cool stuff,” Meghan answers, digging a little hole in the sand with her toe that the water immediately laps up and dissolves.

“Or stepped on it,” Kacey agrees, “you’ll only find something cool on a private beach.”

“No,” Meghan says, looking up, “no way. I’m not going to get arrested for a mussel shell.”

“Nobody’s going to arrest us,” Kacey says, waving the flashlight up and down Meghan’s body, “look at us.”

“Stop,” Meghan laughs, “I guess we could pretend we were lost, if you really sell it.”

“We might not even get caught,” Kacey replies, grinning, and Meghan follows her past the sign that tells them to stop with only a little twinge of guilt. 

They go along like they had before, Meghan occasionally stopping to pick up shells and rocks and look at them, Kacey taking the occasional swig of wine and offering it to Meghan when she does. Meghan wades out into the water after a little while, up to her calves, and lets the waves take the sand out from under her and bring it back. She’s distracted, looking at the moon where it’s poked out from behind some clouds, and when she turns around Kacey’s sitting with the wine bottle, watching her.

Meghan joins her, sitting close enough that they’re almost touching. She takes the bottle when Kacey offers it, and takes a drink long enough that it burns the back of her throat even after she’s swallowed.

“Kace,” she says eventually, “do you think my parents will care?”

Kacey doesn’t have to ask her what she’s talking about. Meghan’s overcome with a wash of affection when she realizes it. Kacey considers it for a few seconds before she answers, the neck of the bottle resting between her middle and index fingers like it’s a beer.

“Probably not,” she replies. “My parents--at least my mom, she knew before I told her. They kind of get it. I think more than we give them credit for.”

“Yeah,” Meghan agrees, but she’s thinking that Kacey never tried, never pretended to like boys. 

“Even if they do care,” Kacey continues, handing the bottle over again, “it’ll only be like, to the extent that they want you to be safe and happy.”

“I am safe and happy,” Meghan says, taking another sip, and Kacey shrugs.

“Yeah, but they’re always gonna worry about that,” Kacey says. “They would even if you were still dating guys. It’s just their job.”

Meghan puts the bottle down. When she looks over, Kacey’s looking at the moon, the breeze behind them pushing out towards the water and tugging some of Kacey’s loose hair into her face. Kacey turns her head and catches Meghan staring, but there’s no moment of awkwardness, just Kacey’s gaze dropping to Meghan’s lips and Meghan leaning forward to encourage her.

Kacey almost knocks the wine over when she leans in and reaches to stop it, setting them both off laughing. She sets it aside and presses Meghan back into the sand, bringing their mouths close, their noses brushing, but not quite kissing Meghan, who keeps trying as Kacey keeps barely pulling away. She huffs in frustration, about to speak, and that’s when Kacey finally kisses her. Kacey’s warm, and that contrast with the cool sand is something Meghan didn’t expect somehow. She winds an arm around Kacey’s waist as their bare legs shuffle against each other, trying to find a spot that’s comfortable, but the actual kiss is so heady from the wine and the anticipation that Meghan doesn’t care about the sand at all.

She’s not sure how long they go on like that, pushing and pulling like tides, taking moments to breathe. Eventually Kacey slides a hand under Meghan’s t-shirt, and even the grit of sand against her skin isn’t enough to ruin that. Kacey’s not even doing anything, just resting her palm against Meghan’s stomach, when a voice comes out of nowhere and startles them apart.

“Hey!” someone bellows from down the beach, “you there!” and Kacey scrambles to her feet, grabbing the wine and Meghan’s hand. They duck away from the flashlight that alights on them, cracking up, which hinders their running but not enough for them to get caught. They’re athletes, after all. And the guy that’s chasing them, Meghan sees over her shoulder, is three times their age.

They don’t stop until they’re in their room, and Kacey leans against the door after she closes it, fighting to catch her breath. She holds out the wine to Meghan, corked and in one piece, and Meghan is in hysterics again, unable to take it from where she’s sunk down onto one of the beds.

“Hey,” Kacey wheezes, “you there,” and she has to stop, incapacitated by laughter. She almost drops the wine so Meghan takes it and puts it down on the night table, but they’re both laughing for at least another minute. Every time one of them starts to calm down, they make eye contact and dissolve into laughter again, clutching their sides, their stomachs, anything to stay upright.

Eventually Kacey stumbles over to the bed, reaching for the wine. Meghan reaches for her hand, swatting it away, and Kacey grabs her wrists, tumbling onto the bed with her, pinning her to the mattress. It’s supposed to be funny, or at least it starts out that way, but they’re both silent like that for a moment, locking eyes. Kacey’s knees are on either side of Meghan’s hips, all her weight resting against Meghan’s wrists and the bed, but Meghan can still feel it when she relaxes, when she decides what she’s going to do. She can feel it in every single nerve ending when Kacey licks her lips and her eyes flicker down and back up.

This kiss isn’t like anything Meghan can remember. It doesn’t feel planned, doesn’t feel like Kacey’s trying to make a point, it’s just a kiss, a heated one that comes from getting caught halfway through whatever they were doing on the beach. Meghan pushes up against Kacey’s grip on her wrists and Kacey lets go of them, so Meghan reaches up to cup Kacey’s shoulder in one hand and her lower back in the other, pulling her closer.

Kacey’s small, Meghan realizes, or realizes again. Small enough that it’s easy for Meghan to get an arm all the way around her waist, which ends with Kacey rocking against her a little bit. In just their bikini bottoms their skin is sticking from suntan lotion and salt, but Meghan doesn’t care.

“Are we doing this?” Kacey asks, sitting up all of a sudden. Meghan’s distracted by the wisps of hair that have come free from Kacey’s ponytail and are falling into her face so she takes a second to answer, reaching up to tuck one back behind her ear.

“Yeah,” she says, with her hand now on the back of Kacey’s neck, “if you want to.”

Kacey kisses her again, her hand working back under Meghan’s t-shirt and sliding across her stomach. She doesn’t have to answer. It’s obvious from the way her hand creeps up over Meghan’s bikini top that she wants to, and Meghan tries to make it obvious that she wants to just as badly. That’s not difficult. Her bikini top is thin, thin enough that she can feel Kacey’s thumb through the material, and it’s not an exaggeration when she squirms and exhales on a quiet moan. 

Kacey pushes her shirt up until she sits up and tosses it away, and then Meghan takes it upon herself to flip them, wedging her knee between Kacey’s. This is way easier on a bed than it was on the couch. With enough room to spread out, Meghan pushes Kacey’s shirt up and dips down to kiss the skin she uncovers, starting at her hipbones, just above where her bikini starts. Kacey’s skin tastes like sun, like the beach, but under that she tastes like something else that Meghan can’t put her finger on. By the time she’s made it up past Kacey’s belly-button she knows that what she’s tasting is just Kacey’s skin.

“Megs,” Kacey breathes, reaching down for her, but Meghan isn’t done. She chases kisses along Kacey’s ribs, and Kacey wriggles, trying to redirect Meghan’s mouth. Meghan knows that Kacey’s ticklish here--she’s terrorized Kacey plenty of times with her fingertips--but this is more fun, nipping until Kacey’s hands wind into her hair and tug. It’s not really a suggestion.

Meghan’s a little surprised at how much she likes that.

She lets Kacey drag her up into a kiss, but the kiss itself doesn’t last long before Kacey’s biting her lips the way Meghan was biting at her skin. It’s payback, but the whole combination of Kacey’s hand tight in her hair and the other on the back of her neck, the possessiveness, the _intent_ makes it hard for her to keep it together. She moans again, this time half into Kacey’s mouth, and Kacey flips them, scrambling to untie Meghan’s bikini top behind her back, dragging her open mouth along Meghan’s collarbone.

Meghan arches into Kacey’s mouth after she pushes the bikini top away, her hands gripping Kacey’s shoulders. She keeps trying to take deeper breaths, to slow herself down, but all she wants is to keep her hips moving, like some part of her thinks Kacey will figure out a better place to put her mouth to use. Kacey is too involved in what she’s already doing, sliding a hand along Meghan’s side and back to her hip again.

Kacey settles between Meghan’s legs, sitting up and tugging her own swimsuit off, and this time Meghan is brave enough to touch her the way she had only thought about the first time they were together. There’s no pretenses this time, nothing that Kacey’s trying to show her or teach her, and she sits still while Meghan’s hands move across her chest. She can feel Kacey’s heartbeat for a moment before Kacey grabs her hands, squeezing them and tugging Meghan up into a sitting position. Kacey ends up in Meghan’s lap, her hands on Meghan’s shoulders. Meghan finds the dip of Kacey’s lower back with one hand, the other creeping lower to pull Kacey flush with her, but she leaves her hand there on Kacey’s ass just because she can and Kacey smiles against her lips because she has to know.

“I thought about this a lot,” Kacey says, pulling back, and Meghan blinks at her.

“Like,” she says, “today?”

“Before today,” Kacey admits, and she’s so serious all of a sudden that Meghan wants to laugh, “When you were going out with Ari I was thinking about how dumb I was for doing that because I knew I liked you.”

“Shut up,” Meghan says, and Kacey’s mouth snaps closed.

“No,” Meghan says, “I mean--you--how long did you like me without telling me? Seriously?”

Kacey pushes Meghan back into the bed and tucks her fingertips just under Meghan’s bikini bottom.

“Months,” she says, “I guess. I don’t know. I think right after we--on the couch in the game room.”

“We what?” Meghan teases, and Kacey turns pink. She goes serious again, and Meghan’s hands slide back up to her hips to hold her in place.

“Megs,” she says, “do you like me? Cause I don’t want to do this if you don’t. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

Meghan doesn’t have to think about her answer, but she has to think about how to say it. Hesitating even for a few seconds has turned Kacey a little bit pale, and Meghan immediately rushes to reassure her, leaning up to kiss her.

“Why do you think I stopped going out with her?” she asks, and Kacey makes a face.

“You said you didn’t like her,” Kacey replies. It’s the safe answer, but Meghan does wonder for a second whether or not Kacey had suspected all along.

“Because I liked you,” Meghan admits. It sounds so stupid and juvenile out loud, but Meghan is giddy now that she’s gotten it off her chest. She had never doubted whether Kacey felt the same way, she realizes. It seems inevitable now, like it was only ever a matter of time before they got here.

“Did you like me before or after I blew your mind in my basement?” Kacey asks, but it’s just her nervousness talking, and Meghan knows her well enough to tell. 

Instead of laughing, instead of chirping back, she reaches up and pulls Kacey back down into a kiss. Kacey doesn’t try to speak again. She relaxes instantly, and Meghan realizes that she’s stopped being surprised by the ways that Kacey reacts to her. Losing herself in that kiss is the easiest thing she’s ever done.


End file.
